Stranger at a Funeral
by Love'sdarkshadow
Summary: "Not friends really; I honestly don't think he liked me much." The man sounded mildly amused by this and quietly continued. "I know little to nothing about that man. He was always a mystery to me, all the way till the very end." The stranger takes a strange pause and then whispers quietly, so much so that Edmund nearly leans over to catch the words, "I just don't get him…"


He was easy to spot. Other than his stark white hair, he was also the only one not downing a neat policeman's uniform. Instead he wore all black commoner's clothes with a tall hat. He looked out of place among the officials, like a fox among hounds, and his posture shouted that he knew he didn't quite belong as well. He stood apart from the crowd, his chin to his chest so his hat cast a shadow over his eyes, his shoulders up to his ears and his hands hidden in his pockets. His entire countenance screamed shy and unsociable, like a stray dog. None of the officers approached the stranger, but everyone noticed him.

"Do you believe what the newspapers are saying?" Felix whispered to Edmund. "That Javert killed himself?"

"He didn't seem the type," Edmund whispered back, his eyes shifting towards the stranger yards away. "He was so serious about his job, I can't imagine anything effecting him so much that he'd want to take his own life."

"Yeah," Felix muttered, eyes fixed on the coffin before them. It was a standard, solid polished wood with a wreath of flowers from the police station. The priest droned on beside the coffin as the crowd of officers silently watched. No one was crying, and heads were bowed respectfully. "His whole life was his job. I don't think he had any family or close friends, not even a lover…"

"Say, who do you think that man is?"

Felix looked to Edmund and then followed his gaze. Felix had noticed the stranger standing by himself but hadn't bothered to ponder on the reason of his presence.

Felix shrugged. "No idea…"

Edmund had been a subordinate to the Inspector for about four years. Javert was serious and passionate about his job. He declined nearly every invitation to go out drinking, never greeted anyone each morning when he arrived to the station, and treated all the officers with the same coldness he did to citizens and criminals alike. He treated everyone the same.

"…lay this body to rest in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit," finished the priest, splashing the top of the coffin with holy water. The grave workers got to work preparing the grave. Edmund watched the stranger lift his head slightly, watching as the men lowered the coffin.

"Maybe he's a family member of Javert? His father maybe?" Felix commented, noting the aged curve of the man's shoulders and back, as well as the bone white hair.

"Hmm or a brother maybe…?" Edmund commented.

"He could be a lover," Felix suggests and Edmund shoots him a look, thinking Felix is trying to joke at a time like this. Felix shrugs. "Well we don't know much about the Inspector, it's not completely unreasonable…Could be a reason why he was always so secretive and why he…"

Edmund doesn't like to think the Inspector would have given up on his life due to a secret relationship with another man. But he is curious about the stranger.

_Perhaps he knows what happened to Javert…_ Edmund thought, silently making his way towards the stranger. The white haired man doesn't look but almost seems to shrink more into himself as Edmund approaches, his head lowering more and shoulders raising a fraction.

The grave workers finally set the coffin into the earth. "May he rest in peace," the priest declares.

"Amen," the crowd of officers drone.

"Amen," Edmund hears the stranger whisper, but it almost sounds like a plea.

"He will definitely be missed," Edmund whispered quietly, almost to himself but loud enough for the old man to hear. "He was an incredible officer."

"Yes. He really was." The old man's voice is rough and drawn, and his words seem hold more than what they say.

Edmund looks to the man then. "Were you Inspector Javert's brother?"

Edmund can't see the man's eyes but sees the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

"No, we were not family, but I've known him nearly all my life."

"Oh, so you were childhood friends?" Edmund suggests.

The stranger shakes his head, leaving Edmund at a loss. "Not friends really; I honestly don't think he liked me much." The man sounded mildly amused by this and quietly continued. "I know little to nothing about that man. He was always a mystery to me, all the way till the very end." The stranger takes a strange pause and then whispers quietly, so much so that Edmund nearly leans over to catch the words, "I just don't get him…"

The old man lifts his head and Edmund sees tears in his eyes. He looks angry and confused and desperate and sad, the tears spilling over and down his aged cheeks. Edmund finds himself surprised that this man is crying, not realizing someone could be so moved and upset by Javert's death.

"Who was he to you?" Edmund whispers. And like a crack of lightning, as fast as the emotions are there, they are gone. The stranger lowered his head again, the hat shadowing his tears and pain. He paused for a long moment and then turned and left the funeral.

Edmund watched him for a moment and then made his way silently back to his comrade.

The grave workers started filling the hole. The Perfect stood at attention and saluted; the crowd followed. People then began silently leaving.

"Who was he?" Felix asked, looking to Edmund.

"I don't know." Edmund watched as the grave workers did their job. Just another death to them, another hole to dig and fill. Just another person. To the crowd Javert was a good comrade, a good officer, a tough superior and a loyal subordinate. Citizens won't notice his absence, no family would mourn him, no close friends or lovers in sight. No one who knew Javert beyond his job. No one except that stranger who'd known Javert all his life but didn't understand him. "That man was crying. He was really mourning, yet he said he hardly even knew Javert."

"Maybe he just a sentimental old man," Felix suggested and Edmund gave him a look. "That man could have just been some passerby."

_No, that guy wasn't just anyone…_Edmund thought. _He obviously knew Javert more than we did. _Edmund wondered if maybe they had worked together in the past maybe, but the old man was retired now. _I honestly don't think he liked me much. _The old man had obviously cared for _him _enough to attend the maybe they had been closer than the stranger had let on…

_I just don't get him…_

The old man's words rang in his mind. He must not have understood why Javert did what he did. Did it have to do with that man? Was he the cause and he hadn't even known? Had he been there when it had happened…? Javert hadn't seemed the type to care deeply about anything or anyone, so then why…? Javert's main focus was his work, that's what had made him such a good officer. So why did he do it and who was that man…?

Edmund felt a drop on his nose and looked up at the gray skies. Glancing one last time at the grave, he bid farewell to Felix and left the cemetery; he left the grave diggers to their jobs, left the officers to their respects, left the memory of the weeping old man and left the memory of Javert behind.


End file.
